A Coffee Table for Dialogue in a Politically Divided Germany

Background

In the bustling city of Berlin’s Kreuzberg district, a long table adorned with white tablecloths and filled with coffee, pastries, and cakes is set before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the ZEIT ONLINE office. The air is filled with snippets of conversations, weaving together a murmur of good cheer. It is Sunday afternoon, and the scene evokes the traditional German "Kaffeeklatsch," a cozy gathering for coffee and conversation.

The Mission

However, this Kaffeeklatsch has a specific purpose: to bring together people with diverse political views for a session of open and respectful dialogue. It is the ninth edition of "Deutschland spricht," a project organized by ZEIT ONLINE, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, and Bild-Zeitung, offering a platform for political discourse among readers from different newspapers. Over 10,000 participants, ranging from PhD-holding computer scientists to train drivers, have signed up for this event.

The Challenge and the Goal

This experiment raises the question: "Can we still talk to each other in Germany?" It is often said that German society is deeply divided, but the true extent of this division remains elusive. Does it refer to ordinary citizens, politicians, or the inhabitants of social media? Many Germans share a sense that "something is rotten in this country," a phrase that has become a cliché.

Today, at least, this division is confined to the table’s length. The participants sit together, engaging in the seemingly unlikely activity of talking to each other. They choose topics without hesitation: migration, arms deliveries, debt brakes, and even the reduction of benefits for citizens receiving unemployment assistance.

Civil Exchanges and Diverse Perspectives

One participant, a woman from East Germany, expresses her concern about people receiving unemployment benefits who are "just laying around on their lazy butts – and living off my taxes." She has struggled for years to get by on low-paying jobs before finally retraining in her 40s. Her conversation partner, a woman with a golden chain, agrees, "but I am thinking especially of billionaires."

The exchange remains civil, as do all the conversations, perhaps because only the comparatively homogeneous group of ZEIT ONLINE readers were invited to participate. Those who are not interested in dialogue, or perhaps do not even read newspapers anymore, would not be present.

Yet, there are participants like the man who has always voted for the Social Democratic Party (SPD) but now plans to vote for the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD). He passionately debates with a woman who believes that anyone who votes for the AfD "votes for Nazis." He dismisses her claim, saying, "There are idiots in every party." They end their discussion calmly and respectfully, with the man saying, "Waltraud, I enjoyed talking to you!"

A Crisis of Discourse or a Crisis of Discourse Spaces?

These encounters at the long table raise the question whether the crisis in Germany is not a crisis of discourse itself, but rather a crisis of discourse spaces. While carefully planned spaces like this one create environments where disagreement does not immediately turn into escalation, other places where people with different life experiences once met naturally are disappearing. In many cities, especially in metropolitan areas, cafés, pubs, community centers, and libraries have vanished, often due to gentrification or rising costs. Where once serendipitous encounters could happen, there now stands a "Smashburger" pop-up store, offering only takeout.